


I'm Not Them

by jbsullivan17



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 00:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7244668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbsullivan17/pseuds/jbsullivan17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy has loathe/loved Clarke since they met and has never had the chance to tell her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Them

Bellamy Blake hated Clarke Griffin, she's a spoiled little princess that had convinced his little sister that living in the dorm would get her foot fungus and she’d gain 10 pounds of fat. Knowing Octavia, she'd have preferred it to have been muscle.

Clarke and Octavia met about eighteen months ago while touring Bellamy's alma mater and somehow clicked. Bellamy hated it but luckily paying rent to Clarke for a room in her apartment and food from the grocery was much cheaper than room and board at Ark U so Bellamy decided why the hell not? He knew where Octavia was and that she's away from the stupid frat boys that lived on the opposite side of campus from their apartment, especially that brute John Murphy.

Clarke and Octavia are now sophomores and since the start of the year, Bellamy has barely seen his sister and had decided that it was Clarke’s fault. They’ve always butted heads, ever since they met but he was also her first call last year when she was too drunk at a party to get herself home and her loser boyfriend who aspired to be an astronaut (really?), ditched her and she needed a ride home. All their freshman year, Bellamy and Octavia had a Sunday brunch schedule that Clarke dubbed the Blake Siblings Sunday Brunch. But it’s the end of their fall semester and Octavia has one more week of classes before finals and Bellamy has barely seen his sister. Out of aggravation and some slight anger, Bellamy called and left a rather rude voicemail saying that if Clarke doesn't let Octavia out of her cult house then he's going to bust down the door and take her away forever.

After graduation, Bellamy moved across town to be closer to his teaching position at Polis Academy, which he could practically walk to but he has a car now and likes to use it. So Bellamy drove across town after Octavia agreed to meet this Sunday for brunch, like they used to, since she won’t be able to for the next two Sundays due to finals. Bellamy eagerly knocked on the door of their apartment and waited before using his own key to get in.

Bellamy walks in and Clarke is wearing an Ark U t-shirt with nothing else. Her blonde curls tied in a knot on top of her head in a messy bun with strands of messy curls framing her face.

“Really, Princess?” Bellamy asks her, an eyebrow quirking up.

“Well, Bellamy, if you knocked like a normal, civilized human being, I'd have put more clothes on,” she counters, spinning back around to grab the coffee filters off the top shelf, her ass half hanging out and Bellamy holds back a groan. He won't deny Clarke’s beauty but damn is she a pain in the ass.

“How's Lexa?” he asks, sitting on the living room couch, trying to remind himself that she’s taken.

“Still sleeping. She hates that you have a key,” Clarke says as though that answers his question. She bounces back down on her heels and places the filter in the coffee maker before filling it with the coffee grounds.

“Well, someone needs to make sure you two don't get into too much trouble. I know my sister and she will.”

Clarke swung around, leaning against the kitchen counter. “You know your sister is old enough to take care of herself.”

Bellamy smirks, “I know that, but I also know that she's always had someone to fall back on. Speaking of Octavia, where is she?”

“I don't know,” Clarke answers a little too quickly.

“Clarke,” Bellamy scowls.

“She had a date last night, I didn't hear her come home. That doesn't mean she isn't here.”

Bellamy grimaces, “A date? She didn't tell me.”

“They've been seeing each other for about six weeks. She seriously didn't tell you? He's—he's an artist.”

“Octavia is seeing an artist?” he scoffs with an eye roll. “That's hard to believe.”

“He's also into martial arts.”

“Well there's why.”

“Adam was just another guy to her.”

“What, just practice?” Bellamy scoffs again. “Clarke, we both know Octavia, she does what she wants.”

And with that the front door opens and Octavia almost stumbles through it and freezes at the sight of Bellamy sitting on the sofa. “What kind of twenty-five-year-old are you that you don’t sleep in on Sundays?”

“What kind of eighteen-year-old are you trying to sneak into your own apartment?” Bellamy counters. “Who is this guy?”

“You don’t know him, Bell,” Octavia says, shrinking a little bit. She doesn’t know what it is about her older brother that makes her feel smaller than she is, maybe it’s because he’s the closest she has to a father.

“No, I obviously don’t and you haven’t mentioned him for six weeks.”

“Really, Clarke?” Octavia exclaimes. “You told him?”

“He’s your brother, O, but he’s my source of income.”

Bellamy scoffs as Lexa walks out of Clarke’s room and into the kitchen, ignoring everybody as she opens the fridge.

“Morning, babe,” Clarke says to her.

“You guys are obnoxiously loud this morning.”

“Lexa, do you know about Octavia’s boyfriend?” Bellamy asks, not actually liking Clarke’s girlfriend but it’s a means to an end for him.

“Are they exclusive?” Lexa yawns.

“They’d better be if she’s coming home at nine on a Sunday morning, doing the walk of shame,” Bellamy practically accuses.

“His name is Lincoln. Yeah, we’re both from Oakwood.”

“So you know him?”

“I told Clarke that she absolutely has to take his sketch class, he’s an amazing artist.”

“Bell, will you stop harassing them? I need to shower before we go to breakfast and then you can ask me whatever the hell you want about Lincoln. Okay?”

“I’m going to take you up on that,” Bellamy grimaces, seeing Lexa snake her arms around Clarke’s waist and kisses her seductively. “Coffee?” he asks Clarke after Octavia bolts into her room to get ready for her shower, separating the two girls from each other.

* * *

Bellamy unlocks the door to his apartment and walks in, sighing as he collapses onto the old brown leather couch he bought off Craigslist for eighty dollars, it’s torn and part of the leather actually ripped off the fabric and you could feel the padding underneath but it’s theirs, who’s he to complain? He just got home from work and can’t stop thinking about the fact that his barely legal little sister is dating a guy that’s two years older than him. Aside from the fact that Lincoln is Clarke’s professor, it should be illegal for professors to date any student that goes to the school he works at. It’s dirty.

“Dude,” Miller calls from the bathroom, Bellamy thought he was alone in their apartment but alas, his roommate and coworker is home as well. “Did you buy toilet paper?”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, “It was your turn to go shopping, man.”

“Then we’re going to starve and I’m stuck in here. Should I just jump in the shower?”

“Sure, just don’t use my shampoo again, it’s annoying.”

“Your hair always smells amazing, I’m sorry I wanted to impress Bryan and used it when I ran out.”

Bellamy grimaces, Miller always wears a beanie on his head, even when he’s teaching his English class, it’s funny watching some of their students confusing him for one of their own. “Miller, this is getting weird, just fucking shower.”

“So you can go back to torturing yourself over Clarke or Lincoln? I don’t think so.”

“Miller!” Bellamy snaps.

Bellamy’s known Miller since their freshman year when Bellamy was lost as all hell and couldn’t find the rugby field, getting a full ride on the sport was pure luck. He was great and ruthless and Ark U was on a bad losing streak and Bellamy’s talent brought them back and he hopes they keep it up without him. He brought them all the way to the semi’s three years running and then he graduated. He hopes the rest of the guys keep it going without him and Miller but who knows?

“Dude, you’re almost out of shampoo!” Miller calls after a few minutes.

“I’m going to kill you!” Bellamy grumbles into the pillow next to his face.

“Then stop thinking about Clarke or Lincoln, it’s like a heavy weight in this apartment man!”

“I’m thinking about rugby and I don’t think about Clarke.”

“You do, bro, when Octavia brings her over, I see the dirty thoughts running through your hetero brain,” Miller says stepping out of the bathroom with his towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh, gee thanks for that and I really don’t.”

“Is that why you and Gina broke up?”

“No, Gina and I—that’s a long story.”

“Longer than you not having feelings for Clarke?” Miller asks skeptically.

“I don’t know where you got this asinine idea from. Clarke is just Octavia’s roommate. She’s a cool girl—a pain in the ass—but that’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes, will you please put some damn pants on? You’re being abnormally open today.”

“We’ve seen each other naked and you’re not my type,” Miller shrugs it off as though it’s nothing. Bellamy already knew that he isn’t Miller’s type, it makes their friendship somewhat easier.

“Thank God!” Bellamy jokes and sat up. “You seriously didn’t go shopping this weekend?”

Miller scoffs, “I seriously didn’t go shopping this weekend.”

Bellamy groans and stands, “I’ll go but you have to go the next three weeks. I’ll even write you a list.”

“Damn, fine. Don’t forget toilet paper.”

“I don’t forget things, that’s you,” Bellamy calls over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, and Bell, get over the whole Lincoln thing, you’ve known for over a month and it isn’t going to change.”

Bellamy nods, grabbing his keys off the hook and heads out the door to the super market a few blocks away.

He is more than halfway through shopping and in the toilet paper aisle, trying to find the one on sale this week when someone bumps into him.

“Bellamy?” the brunette asks, and he somehow manages to recognize her long brown hair but not the brunette on her arm, used to seeing a specific wavy blonde with intense blue eyes and adorable mole over her lip instead.

“Lexa, what are you doing here? And who—?”

“Costia, this is Bellamy, he’s Octavia’s older brother,” Lexa explains to Costia.

“Costia?” Bellamy questions, wondering what the hell happened with Clarke.

“I’ve been in Africa, building schools and aqueducts for the starving children, but I missed Lexa too much so I came back,” Costia beams at Lexa. “I’m not going anywhere this time.”

“So Clarke is…”

“She understands,” Lexa states and for some reason, Bellamy is sure that Clarke doesn’t but told Lexa that she did because she didn’t want Lexa to stick around and make Clarke feel worse about the situation.

No matter how much Bellamy hates Lexa, he wants Clarke to be happy and Lexa made her happy. But now she’s sad and Octavia didn’t even mention it, then again he hasn’t seen much of Octavia, just texts and she occasionally came over to his apartment for dinner and she asked about his work and he asked about her school and her new job at the coffee house. The new semester starts in a few weeks but he started back a few days ago, right after New Years.

“It was nice meeting you, Costia. Lexa,” Bellamy says, not caring which brand of toilet paper he buys now, he has to get across town and check on Clarke.

* * *

He parks in front of their building twenty minutes later and knocks ferociously on the door. “Clarke, please open up, I have a key and I’m coming in regardless.”

The door swings open and Octavia stands in the doorway in a t-shirt and sweatpants. “Clarke isn’t here.”

“Where is she?”

“She went to work around nine this morning, she said she’d be back a little after five but she hasn’t been answering my calls.”

“Well, did you call your friends and ask if they’ve seen her?”

“I just assumed she was with Lexa,” Octavia shrugs. How’s she supposed to know about Clarke’s whereabouts if Clarke didn’t even tell her about her heartbreak. But of course Clarke wouldn’t tell anybody about her heartbreak, Bellamy had to find out through Raven that Clarke was the other woman to this Finn guy last year, after he slept with her unfortunately but Raven and Clarke are friends now, kind of. Bellamy thinks.

“Lexa broke up with Clarke because Costia came back for her.”

“Who’s Costia?”

“Lexa’s ex who came back from Africa for Lexa and Lexa ran back into her arms like it was nothing.”

“That’s fucked up. Um, where would Clarke—the ledge,” Octavia says definitively.

“What the hell is the ledge?”

“Are you sure you went to Ark U? The ledge is _the_ hang out, everyone goes there when there isn’t a party to, well, party.”

“I was on a strict scholarship, O, I didn’t get to party much.”

“And yet you had threesomes.”

“What… Murphy told you? I’m going to kill him.”

“Murphy wanted me to be well aware that the squeaky clean façade you plaster on when I’m around is exactly that. He’s still an ass whom I don’t like but he is handy for blackmailing my overprotective brother.”

“Where the hell is this ledge, Octavia?”

“Behind Mecca Hall, through the woods.”

Bellamy nods and runs down the stairs and out to his car getting to Ark U campus in record time and double parks but doesn’t care as long as he can make sure Clarke is okay.

It takes him a few minutes to adjust to walking through the woods, he’s still in his “old man loafers”, as Clarke likes to call them, from work and the terrain didn’t help along with the darkness. He sees a light ahead and knows he has to be close.

Then there’s the noise, people chattering, some obnoxious hip-hop playing over some speakers. The light he follows is a bonfire, he can smell it when the wind changes directions. He walks into the clearing and it’s a mix of drunk hook ups, drunk dancing and drunk talking. Everyone’s drunk while Bellamy scans the crowd looking for the familiar blonde hair that he’s always wanted to comb his fingers through.

He spots her, by the actual ledge, this is the worst party spot he’s been to. He walks up to her as she paces the edge, clutching a solo cup to her chest.

“Clarke,” he manages to choke out, not wanting to frighten her and cause her to fall over.

“Did you know a girl died here?” she says slowly. “She fell over the edge. She was twelve, visiting her sister. She ran away and didn’t realize that the ledge was here. She figured it was just a hill and she’d descend the other end, realizing too late. Physics wasn’t her friend that day,” Clarke says taking a sip from her cup and stumbles, catching herself as Bellamy tries reaching out but knows better than to grab her. She could push him away and fall over the edge.

“Clarke, please, step towards me,” Bellamy begs, the pain and worry in his eyes, but she can’t see that, she’s looking down over the edge. Somehow Bellamy knows that if something does happen, she didn’t choose it, it would be an accident because he knows Clarke isn’t suicidal. She may miss her father and feel like her life has ended because Lexa ripped her heart out of her chest but she won’t kill herself. She’s also drunk, very drunk, she can be a depressed drunk but somehow Bellamy doubts it.

“Isn’t that what life is about?” she asks, not Bellamy but herself, finishing an internal conflict out loud. “A series of choices that puts you in the throes of another choice and another, one choice is safe, stepping back and let you take me home or stay here and risk falling over the edge to my untimely demise, in which the cycle of choices ends. If I go with you, do I kiss you? Do I let you tuck me into bed and send you on your way? Do I cry on your shoulder over a woman who we all knew was going to leave me eventually but I fell for her regardless? The choices there are endless, Bellamy, endless options that never end until death.”

Hearing her talk about kissing him makes him want her to, he wants to know what she tastes like, how she’d move her lips against his. If she’d use tongue or if she would keep it a secret, like an accidental whisper, something she wanted but didn’t know how it’d be taken before he deepened it. How does the Princess kiss?

“Please, Princess, let me take you home.”

Clarke’s head spins around to him at the nickname, “Finn called me that.”

“And here I thought I coined the name.”

“I prefer it when you say it but I still don’t like it.”

“I need you to step away from the ledge and let me take you home.”

“Why?” she asks, barely loud enough over the music coming from behind them. He’s just a silhouette to her.

“I don’t think I could live with myself if I let you fall.”

“What if it was for you?” she asks, not missing a beat but missed his heart being ripped out of his chest.

“Clarke,” Bellamy shakes his head. He knows Clarke doesn’t feel the way he does and he’s okay with it as long as she doesn’t toy with him and doesn’t figure it out. “Please.”

She steps closer to him, one step then two and he grabs her wrist, pulling her farther from the cliff and against his chest. “Don’t do that again,” he whispers against her unruly hair as he hugs her tightly.

“Okay.”

“I’m serious, Clarke.”

“Me too.”

Bellamy pushes her away, to arm’s length and stares her in the eyes, “I’m taking you home.”

“Jasper and Monty brought me here, my car is at work.”

“We can get it in the morning. I am taking you home.”

“Thank you, Bell,” she says when he places her in her bed when she’s half asleep twenty minutes later.

* * *

Bellamy spends his weekends at Clarke’s apartment, he’d pack an overnight bag and go straight from work Friday nights and leave sometime on Sunday. He sleeps on the couch, and they’d switch up on making meals or snacks. They have some reality bullshit on the TV as he grades papers or tests and she studies or works on a paper, occasionally asking him a history question.

It’s been over a month and they were relaxing on the couch, picking out a movie, Clarke’s bare legs are draped over Bellamy’s thighs as he absentmindedly strokes circles into her skin.

“Have you seen the new season of Game of Thrones?” Clarke asks as the guide highlights the show on the screen.

“I actually haven’t had the time to even start the series.”

“What? Bellamy! You can’t be serious!”

“I actually am, it started my senior year of high school, I was focused on getting a scholarship and then while in college I was busy keeping that scholarship while working full time and now it’s my first year teaching. I’ve had a busy few years.”

“You’ve deprived yourself!” Clarke accuses, poking him in the side with the remote, making him jump.

“Isn’t it about incest?” Bellamy asks about the show, ignoring her poke.

“What? No! I mean there is one brother and sister who love each other but it’s all about what these families would do to hold the throne, it’s ruthless and powerful and shows that women are stronger than men make them out to be.”

“Who cares?”

“Sean Bean is in it,” Clarke says flatly, knowing well enough that Bellamy likes the actor’s acting, better than his.

“I’ll watch it, but only from the beginning, I don’t want to start in season six and have things spoiled for me.”

“You think that I’d do that to you? I—“ she’s cut short from someone banging angrily on the door.

“Blake, you’ve been hogging Clarke for over a month! I want my friends back!” Raven calls from the other side of the door before the tall brunette breezes in and freezes at the sight of them. “What in the fuck?”

Clarke immediately pulls her legs from Bellamy and sits up properly, reaching her glass of water on the coffee table in front of them. “Jeez, Ray, you sure know how to make an entrance.”

“What the hell is going on with you two? Are you dating?”

“What?” Bellamy snaps, terrified that they’d both see through his offense and see the wanting in his eyes. “No, we’re—“ he looks at Clarke who seems to have deflated into a bundle of sorrow he hasn’t seen since the ledge six weeks ago. “Clarke?”

“Princess, come on, get dressed we’re going to party.”

Clarke doesn’t move, her hands gripping around the glass of water tightly as she stares at the TV.

“Clarke?” Bellamy asks again. “Come on, Princess, what’s going on?”

After a moment Clarke looks at Raven by the door. “A party?”

“That’s my girl, Murphy promises nothing like last time will happen,” Raven smirks, knowing that’s exactly what’s going to happen, just worse.

“Clarke, Game of Thrones or a party?” Bellamy asks Clarke, trying to get her to look at him. He’s worried she’ll have another episode like she did at the ledge.

“I’ll go change,” Clarke stands and goes to her room while Bellamy calls after her before turning on Raven.

“Do you know what happened the last time she drank? The reason I’m here? She was debating jumping over the ledge, Raven. She can’t do that again.”

“Why are you the one taking care of her then? Where’s Lexa? Octavia?”

“Octavia has been spending her weekends with Lincoln and Lexa is the whole reason it happened six weeks ago. I’m going if she is.”

“Bellamy… when did these feelings for her arrive?”

“There are no feelings, Raven, and even if they did, she doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Dude, did you see what she was wearing? Those _silk_ pajamas weren’t made to be worn, they’re made to be taken off. You’re an idiot.”

“No, she—she says I’m smothering her, that she can be alone without issue.”

“Has she kicked you out? She’s waiting for you to make a move because she’s been burned two times in a row, that we know of. Bell, I’m saying this as a friend to both of you, you’re both idiots. If you do to her what you did to me last year after Finn, she’d be an idiot to let you go.”

“You two had sex?” Clarke asked in the doorway of her room, dressed in tight black skinny jeans and boots that made her legs look infinite and a sparkly blue top that showed too much cleavage, she was gorgeous and Bellamy couldn’t tell her.

“It was only one night after Finn happened. I needed someone to get under to get over Finn,” Raven explained as though it was no big deal which, if Clarke didn’t have feelings for him, she’d shrug it off and asked Raven if she was ready to go.

“Clarke—” Bellamy said, not knowing what he was going to say. Just tried reading the hard expression on her face.

“People have sex, Bellamy, I, for one, plan to tonight. So you can either be here, awkwardly sleeping on the lumpy couch that you pretend doesn’t give you back pain, or you can go home, or you can go to the party. But whichever you choose, know that you can’t tell me what to do because I am going to this party.”

Clarke stormed out of her apartment and Raven shrugged her shoulders at Bellamy and followed Clarke out of the apartment.

Bellamy was in deep and he had to dig himself out before he drowns in everything that is Clarke Griffin.

* * *

Octavia sat at the kitchen table across from Bellamy who was stewing on last night’s affairs. What the hell was wrong with Clarke? Why was she being so distant and pushed him away?

“Okay, Bell, what’s going on with you?” Octavia asked, poking his hand with her fork.

“What?” he asked, snapping out of his thoughts.

“You’ve been in a funk all morning, so tell me what the hell is going on with you.”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Then why are we having breakfast here instead of at my apartment with Clarke?” Octavia asks, he knows it’s became a habit of either Clarke or Bellamy making breakfast for the three of them and today Octavia woke up to a text from Bellamy saying to go to his apartment instead.

“She’s with some girl, Niylah.”

“So that’s what this is about. Clarke not reciprocating your feelings?”

“I don’t have feelings, O,” he exclaims, sick and tired of people telling him how he feels when it’s none of their business.

“Sure, you don’t,” Octavia rolls her eyes and takes a bite of her eggs.

“Octavia, I’m serious, I don’t have any feelings for Clarke. We were friends and now she’s back to being a pain in the ass, I’m not into this moody bullshit she pulls.”

“What happened? Give me all the details, no matter how minute they seem to be, I’m going to figure this out.”

“Do you know how weird this is to share with my sister?”

“Do you know how disturbed I am to know that you’ve Eiffel Towered some poor girl?”

“That did not happen. Murphy and Emori asked me to do it and I let them down easy. Are they seriously spreading that we did?”

“I think he only told me that to creep me out, it worked. Come on, Bell, tell me what happened with Clarke last night.”

Bellamy gives Octavia a rundown of last night, giving her the little details but not adding feelings or telling her that he was stroking her shin while it was across his lap, where else was he going to put his hands? How the hell does Clarke get her skin so soft?

“So right after Raven reminisced about the one night you two thought was a grand idea to share together, Clarke went on the rampage? She’s either crushing on you or Raven and I’m pretty sure it isn’t Raven. It sounded like Clarke was jealous.”

“Clarke? Jealous? No.”

“Bellamy, I’ve lived with her the last eighteen months, you’ve argued with her for most of those. Which one of us knows her better?”

Bellamy thought it over for a moment, the concept of Clarke “Princess” Griffin being jealous of someone being with him, however long ago it may have been, just seems ridiculous. He shakes his head, “I’m not going to your apartment anytime soon, O.”

“You’re an idiot,” she mumbles forking the last bit of egg into her mouth and stands up, placing her plate in the sink. “She likes you, Bell. Yes, it will be insanely awkward for me because you’re my brother and she’s my best friend, but I’ll get over it. You should just go to her.”

“And say what? ‘Clarke, you’re the biggest pain in my ass but I’ve been pining over you for a year and I can’t take it anymore, I need you’? That isn’t going to happen, O.”

“I was thinking of a silent conversation but that will work too,” Octavia smirks, knowing her brother would get the hint.

* * *

It’s been three weeks and Bellamy hasn’t seen Clarke. He’s more irritable than usual and Miller invited Roma over to help relieve Bellamy’s stress and all Bellamy did was grade papers, harsher than usual, being a grammar critic which he usually just skips over them but he needs an outlet for his anger and grading his students’ history papers. Roma finally got the hint that he wasn’t interested and left without a word.  _Good riddance_ , Bellamy thought.

His phone chimes, alerting him of a text and groans.

**Are you still dressed for work?**

Bellamy groans again at Octavia’s message and responds.

**Yeah, Miller thought inviting Roma over  
was a good plan. Idiot. What’s going on?**

**Come to Ark U, and for the love of God,  
please fix your hair**

**What’s wrong with my hair?**

**Uh, what’s RIGHT with your hair..?**

**B there in 30**

For some reason Bellamy actually checks his hair that was, yes, messier than he’d likes but again, why the hell is he doing what Octavia asked, especially when it has to do with going to his alma mater? He shrugs, walking out the door.

When he got to Ark U, he tried finding a parking space before deciding to park on the street, feeding the meter a quarter, getting an hour’s time on the clock.

He follows the ladies in cocktail dresses, figuring that was what Octavia is having him do but texts her anyway asking where he’s going.

**Follow the people, Captain.**

Bellamy rolls his eyes and continues following them until he finds himself in front of Mecca Hall. He’s only been in this building once and it wasn’t that great of an experience, Raven asked him to help her smash some of Finn’s exhibit work and they nearly got caught then they went back to her dorm and had sex. The sex was above average and a terrible idea but almost getting arrested, wasn’t great.

Bellamy walks into the building, hoping they didn’t have a Wanted poster or Octavia attempting to scare the hell out of him because Lord knows, she can. He continues following the swarm of people into an exhibit hall and walks around, looking at the pieces and stops short when he finds a portrait of himself.

He had a pen sticking out of his mouth with his brows furrowed, trying to comprehend what was written on the paper in front of him. Bellamy didn’t know Clarke was drawing him that day. Clarke drew his messy bed hair perfectly, he never bothered dealing with it until he showered.

“Are you glad you came?” Octavia asks softly behind him.

“This doesn’t mean anything. She didn’t even tell me about this.”

“You just dropped out of her life, Bell. She wanted you and you told Raven that you two were just friends. You talked her off the ledge—“

“She wouldn’t have jumped,” he states definitively.

“Bell, it was you that convinced her. None of us knows what she would have done if it was me or Raven or Monty that showed up. It was you who found out about Lexa, it was you that found her in that state. You may not feel like her white knight, but you are. You saved her that day, but you’re also the one that left her.”

“Where is she?” Bellamy asks, knowing but never admitting that his sister is right, that he loves Clarke, that she’s the one who makes him better. She makes him laugh and tells him to do whatever makes him happy and hums while washing the dishes, which he absolutely loves and misses.

“Talking to Lincoln and some guy from MoMA.”

“MoMA? In New York? I can’t.”

“Bellamy, once Lincoln sees you, he’ll take him to another artist in the exhibit. I promise,” Octavia tells him sincerely, trying and failing to calm his nerves.

“She’s too good for me,” Bellamy whispers, deflated.

“Of course, she is, but Bellamy, she wants you. She doesn’t care about money or status like you’ve always accused her of, she wants someone to care about her just like everybody else in this world.”

“She has people who care about her.”

“Me, Raven, her mom? We don’t count, Bell. The six weekends you spent at our apartment with her were the happiest I’ve ever seen her, so stop cock blocking yourself and go!”

Bellamy looks around the room and found Lincoln watching him before he nods for Bellamy to go over. “Okay,” Bellamy says to Octavia and heads for Lincoln and more importantly Clarke.

By the time he cuts through the thick crowd, Lincoln and the MoMA guy are leaving and Clarke stands with her back to Bellamy in a floor length blue dress and Bellamy just knows that she’s absolutely stunning because her blue eyes pop when she’s wearing anything blue. Bellamy breathes for a moment, about to say her name when she turns around and gasps.

“Bellamy,” she says confused but he saw a hint of relief in her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“The drawing? I—I didn’t know that it was the one that Lincoln choose. Someone else ruined their piece for that space and just dropped out of it and Lincoln asked if he could replace it with one of mine from my portfolio and—“

“You’re babbling and I love the portrait, I’m talking about the exhibit.”

“We aren’t talking,” she says looking to the floor.

“We’re friends, Clarke. Shit, we’re not—fuck it,” Bellamy grabs Clarke’s face, holding her steady and kisses her. She doesn’t respond, just stands there, frozen as Bellamy kisses her, putting his whole heart out on the line. He’s about to pull away when Clarke grabs his wrist, trying to get closer to him as she moves her lips with his. She combs her fingers into his shaggy black hair and sighs into him.

“About damn time,” she chuckles when they separate to catch their breaths.

Bellamy kisses her again before taking a step back, “How much longer do you have to stay?”

“I can tell Octavia to say goodbye for me.”

Bellamy swallows, “You should do that.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Home, I’ve wanted you for a long time Clarke and I want you alone.”

Clarke smiles, grabbing Bellamy’s hand and pulls him through the gallery and whispers something in Octavia’s ear as they say goodbye and walks outside.

“Take me home, Bellamy.”

* * *

Bellamy is engrossed in the second season of Game of Thrones when Clarke walks through the door. “Hey, babe,” he says, not fully acknowledging her but just knows it’s her and not Octavia.

“Jon’s with the wildings?”

“Yeah, give me a minute and I’ll make dinner,” he tells her and goes back to the show.

Five minutes later, at the end of the episode, Bellamy turns off the TV and walks into the kitchen and wraps his arms around Clarke’s waist, resting his head on her shoulder. “The show is amazing.”

Clarke lulls her head back against Bellamy’s shoulder and kisses his cheek. “I tried to tell you and you wouldn’t listen.”

“I’m still disturbed about Jaime and Cersei but I’ll get over it.”

Clarke chuckles softly, “When did you know? About us?”

“What do you mean?” Bellamy asks, lifting his chin and spinning Clarke around to face him.

“When did you know you loved me?”

“I haven’t told you that,” Bellamy smiles down at her, he knows that she knows he does, but he also knows it’s too soon to say it. “When did I know that my feelings grew deeper than platonic friendship? Hmm, well, I thought you were a pain in the ass the first year we knew each other, I think you figured that out fairly early. It’s been more gradual since September. You pranced around your apartment in nothing but my Nirvana t-shirt, you—“

“That shirt was yours? I thought it was Octavia’s.”

“I’d rather see you in it,” Bellamy kisses Clarke’s forehead before continuing. “You actually made me laugh in October, and it wasn’t out of pity, surprisingly. Then Lexa dumped you and you didn’t tell anyone, I found you on the edge of a cliff sharing insanely deep thoughts about making choices and nonchalantly added the option of kissing me which made me think about how you’d do it—reality is better than what I imagined, by the way—but no one has ever made me question their kissing ability before. I spent every weekend with you for six weeks, making sure you were okay because for some reason, knowing you weren’t actually suicidal didn’t heed my worrying. Then you practically kicked me out.”

“I did not! Bell, if I didn’t want you there, I would have kicked you out the first weekend you showed up at my door. It was six weekends of your hands casually touching my body like it was nothing, you stroking my leg while I tried not to whimper with need of more. You were acting so brotherly, I couldn’t take it anymore and Raven coming over was just perfect. I invited you to the party, I wanted you to go because I wanted you, not Niylah. You weren’t even here when I got back with her, I wanted you to kick her out and tell me that I wouldn’t be having sex with anyone but you tonight. Bell, I even had Octavia tell you.”

“She did. I just didn’t believe her.”

“You’re an idiot,” Clarke smirks.

“I could say the same to you, I didn’t want to push my luck when I was touching you, you threw your legs over my lap like it was nothing.”

“Because I figured if you touched my legs, your hands would wander up. I dreamt of you touching me, your big, strong hands, how they’d hit just the right spot like I now know they do,” Clarke breathes heavily into Bellamy’s neck. She’s craving him again, they’ve been at it every day when they got home from work and class, they’re like rabbits, as Octavia so stoically put it. They kept it to nights because they didn’t want to rush it in the mornings, Bellamy loves to make Clarke come with his fingers and mouth and he was damn good at it too. And when he finally did slide himself inside her, he took his time. He’d get her to the edge then pull back, like it was a game, a sickly sweet game that Clarke couldn’t get enough of. She loves when he’d flip her over or change their position whenever he needs it. She loves when he collapses onto the bed, raising her on top of him so she can grind down on him, taking in his entire length, rocking her hips back and forth, the friction against her clit and looking down at Bellamy while he looks up at her like she hung the moon was the best feeling she could hope for, always sending her over the edge after the coil in her stomach finally released.

* * *

It takes Bellamy another month to tell Clarke that he loves her, he was half asleep, just finished driving the fourteen hours to New Orleans for spring break. He and Raven swapped every three to four hours, while Clarke, Monty and Jasper tried distracting them with songs and Clarke drew a comic of their conversations, Bellamy enjoyed what she showed him one of the times Raven was driving. She, of course, drew him perfectly, having almost two years of practice, but she hates how she can’t ever get his freckles right because he has so many and there’s only so much room in the drawing for them.

“Bell,” she whispers in the morning, trying to wake him up. They share a hotel room with Raven and Wick and doesn’t want to wake them.

“Mm,” he grumbles, tossing his arm around her waist.

“Come get breakfast with me.”

“I spent all day driving,” he mumbles back.

“Bell, we need to talk.”

His eyes shot open, knowing what those words mean and jumps out of their bed and pulls his jeans on, looking at her expectantly.

“That was fast,” Clarke smirks.

“You want to talk, let’s get this over with.”

Clarke grimaces and gets out of bed, pulling her shorts on and a tee before following Bellamy out of the room and down to the continental breakfast.

“What’s up?” Bellamy asks, drowning his pancakes in syrup.

“I love you.”

“I—that—” Bellamy shakes his head and grimaces.

“You said it last night, and I know you were exhausted and you probably didn’t know you even said it but I want you to know that it’s how I feel and I’m terrified because I feel like you’re going to leave because after those words are uttered, people leave.”

“Clarke, I’m not Finn or Lexa. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I hope so because this, with you, is different. Better.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I wrote this, it wasn't the intended result but I needed to get my mind off of A Year Lost, which i have been stumped on since the Season 3 finale. Hopefully I'm able to go back and write some more...
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think. XOXO JSull


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